


Echoes

by marashin0



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Jedi: Fallen Order (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dark, Force Visions, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), One Shot, Padawan Cal Kestis, Psychometry, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:13:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26817163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marashin0/pseuds/marashin0
Summary: Psychometry: the ability to acquire information about an object solely by touching it.Palpatine’s office is filled with dark artifacts. While meeting with the Chancellor, a young Cal Kestis touches something he shouldn’t.An Obi-Wan & Cal Kestis Master-Padawan AU
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Cal Kestis
Comments: 5
Kudos: 157





	Echoes

**Author's Note:**

> Cal is Obi-Wan's Padawan in this AU

“And who is this?” Palpatine asked curiously, settling back in his oversized chair. He laced his hands across his desk as he quietly observed the young freckle-faced boy hovering at Obi-Wan’s side.

“Chancellor Palpatine,” Obi-Wan said, bowing his head in polite greeting. He stepped aside and motioned to the shy boy. “This is Cal Kestis, my Padawan.”

Cal took a small step forward. “Your Excellency,” he said with a stiff nod, failing to mimic the fluid grace of his master. He was nervous to meet the Supreme Chancellor, only days after ascending to the rank of Padawan.

The old man smiled in return. His pale gaze shifted back and forth between the pair, before settling on Cal. “I imagine it must be quite daunting,” he began in a sympathetic tone, “to follow in the footsteps of Anakin Skywalker. Oh, but I’m sure you’re up to the challenge.”

Cal shrank back slightly. “I hope so,” he replied in a soft voice, suddenly feeling very small and insignificant. He stared at his feet. The Chancellor was right. His master had trained Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear! How could Cal ever hope to compare?

Obi-Wan squeezed his shoulder with a warm hand. “Cal and Anakin are very different,” he said in a low voice meant for Cal’s ears, “each with their own unique strengths. Cal, for instance, has a rare gift, one possessed by only a handful of Jedi.”

Before Obi-Wan could say more, his private comm beeped. The Jedi Master politely excused himself, stepping out into the antechamber of Palpatine’s scarlet office. 

Suddenly Cal was alone with the Chancellor, who broke the ice with a thin, cordial smile, before offering to lead the boy on a private tour. He ushered Cal into the next room, pointing to a bronzium statue of a dead philosopher, and then to a long horizontal mural on the wall, a bas-relief of the Great Hyperspace War. Cal nodded along as the Chancellor went into a brief history of the war, of the great battles fought between the ancient Jedi and their dark side counterparts.

“I’ve always been fascinated by your Order,” the Chancellor said with a dreamy sigh, his elegant robe trailing behind him on the carpet as he swept passed the mural. “But tell me more about this ‘gift’ of yours.”

Cal hurried to catch up with him, shoving his sweaty hands in his pockets. “Um, it’s called psychometry…” The Chancellor nodded for him to continue, his brow creased in thought. “Sometimes if I touch an object, I see a Force echo.”

“A Force echo?” The Chancellor paused in place.

Cal groped to find the right words. “A vision - or an emotion - somehow tied to the object. It’s hard to explain,” he said.

“Hmm. I’m afraid I still don’t quite understand. Perhaps a demonstration is in order?”

“I can’t really control it,” Cal said, flinching in embarrassment. He wanted to kick himself. Here was his one chance to impress the Supreme Chancellor, and he’d already admitted defeat.

The Chancellor politely let the subject drop as they entered the next room. Cal hung back a few paces, sticking close to the door. His hesitation did not go unnoticed.

“Is something wrong?” The Chancellor asked. He was standing in the center of the control room, his arms folded neatly behind his back. His eyes looked hollow in the dim, blinking light of a nearby switchboard.

“This room… it feels strange,” Cal said, suppressing a shudder.

The Chancellor tilted his head. “Strange? How so?”

“It feels… cold.”

“Yes, I suppose it does feel that way.” The Chancellor hummed in thought, glancing to one corner of the room. “Perhaps this is the cause?” He draped an arm around the boy’s shoulder and gestured to a tall, sinuous vase, carved of the blackest stone. Cal swallowed his protest as the Chancellor pressed him forward. “Do you know what this is?” He asked softly.

“A vase?” Cal whispered.

“An _urn_ ,” Palpatine corrected him. “It contains the ashes of someone who was very dear to me. My mentor, who died - _tragically -_ just before I ascended to the Chancellorship.”

“Oh.” Cal blinked. “I’m sorry.”

The Chancellor said nothing, reaching out to place his palm flat against the urn. A strange urge compelled Cal to do the same, brushing his fingertips over the cold black stone. 

His vision whited out and a ragged scream tore from his throat, pain lacing through every muscle, every bone in his body. He felt his innards melt, and the smell of charred flesh filled his nostrils. Through the fog of blood, he heard the crackling of electricity, the distant sound of cold, echoing laughter. A voice was taunting him. _“You worthless old fool!”_

Cal ripped his hand from the urn and fell backwards into the Chancellor’s arms, convulsing wildly. His eyes rolled in his head, pale orange lashes wet with tears. He bit his tongue, slurring his master’s name through a mouthful of blood.

He was unconscious by the time Obi-Wan reached him.

When Cal finally awoke, he found his master sitting at his bedside. Obi-Wan looked pale and haggard, an empty cup of caf clutched in his hand. His face brightened when he noticed Cal staring at him. “Hello there,” he said, shifting forward in his seat. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m ok,” Cal said with a shrug. He propped himself up, glancing around the warm, predominately beige room. He was in the Halls of Healing.

Obi-Wan’s brow shot up. “Do you remember what happened? You fainted in the Chancellor’s office.” He was staring at Cal, seemingly worried that the boy might keel over at any moment.

Cal struggled to meet his master’s probing gaze. “I’m sorry,” he rasped, his throat raw from screaming. He sank lower on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, a dull ache behind his eyes. His whole body felt tired and sore.

“Cal. Its alright,” Obi-Wan said firmly. He folded his arms, his posture stiff. “You don’t have to apologize, but I am concerned about you. I was speaking to Madame Che… She said you’ve suffered similar attacks before, but never quite this severe.”

“Sometimes… when I touch an object… I can’t control it.”

Obi-Wan paused a moment, stroking his beard in thought. His brow was furrowed. “Your psychometry, you mean?” Cal nodded. “And is that what happened in the Chancellor’s office?”

“Yes. I think so. I don’t… I can’t really remember,” Cal said, trailing off. He remembered the black vase in the Chancellor’s office. No, not a vase. What was it? The Chancellor had called it something else… He winced as the dull ache behind his eyes flared into a sharp, stabbing pain. The harder he thought, the more his head hurt.

Obi-Wan forced himself to smile. “Don’t stress over it too much. I’m sure it will come to you. And if it does,” he pitched his voice low, “I would be very curious to hear what you have to say. The Chancellor was somewhat vague, as always.”

Cal’s ears tinged pink. “I’m sure he has bigger things to worry about.” He didn’t want his master to badger the Chancellor with questions. He was embarrassed enough as it was.

“He asked me to relay his best wishes, all the same,” Obi-Wan said, pointing to a bouquet of flowers tied with a red ribbon. He pulled a small envelope from his pocket, reading aloud, "From the Office of the Supreme Chancellor." 

“Oh. That’s nice of him.” 

Obi-Wan merely grunted, handing Cal the small envelope embossed with the Chancellor’s seal. Inside was a handwritten note, scrawled in red ink.

_Get well soon._

**Author's Note:**

> Obi-Wan, stop leaving your Padawans alone with this man.


End file.
